It’s late when they get back from their anniversary celebration (well, three days post-anniversary trip to scare people at the cinema) and she’s a little bit giggly as he presses her back against the door and kisses her thoroughly with her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands curving over her narrow hips.
“I’m so glad I started fucking you,” she breathes in between kisses, giggling yet again as he wrinkles his nose and reaching up to peck it (she gets his top lip, he figures that’s hardly something to complain about).
“Couldn’t you be more romantic?” He frowns, mock frowns for he’s a little too dizzy at the moment to manage anything proper, as he draws back – still can’t resist letting her lean after him with her long leg coming up to wrap around his hips.
“Why?” She giggles, aiming for his nose again and ending up with his cheek (still nothing to complain about).
He makes a slight face at it, only a slight one – still a little too dizzy, wraps his arms all the tighter around her and drags her up for another proper kiss, “it is technically our anniversary…”
“So?”
At her snort, and a snort should really not be attractive on any person, he decides to go for broke – wraps his arms even tighter around her waist and picks her up, spins her around with a certain sort of joy that should probably be allowed on occasions such as these…
And ends up tripping over his own feet, crashing down on the stairs with her giggling on top of him and his back already hurting.
“…You should be nice to me today,” he finishes in a slightly out of breath way, after he’s done pretending not to notice her subtle checking of his head.
“Why?” And as she sits back on his chest, a wicked smirk curving her lips as she taps her fingernails (half of them far too long, half of them far too short) against his shirt.
“If we’re having fantastic sex on a regular basis…”
And she’s snorting again.
And leaning down for another kiss, one that practically invites him to raise his hands and bury them in her thick, slightly curly hair (still a mane, for she is Chris and will be sure to have a mane even when she’s ninety and hitting people with a cane).
“It is pretty fantastic,” she purrs, the moment she draws back and casually tugs up the straps of her dress.
“Mm,” he has to agree, for it is one of those facts that you can’t get away from – like the sun rising and Marcus treating him with faint scorn, Chris will always be absolutely amazing in bed “…So fantastic that I wonder why you decided to do it with me, sometimes.”
She only smiles down at him for a second, incredibly fondly.
“…What?”
“You idiot,” and wrinkles her nose equally fondly, as she leans down to give him an enthusiastic hug (which does not help his back any, but he’s still hardly going to raise a fuss), “I knew, for about two years before I actually made my move, that if I turned to you and kissed you or asked you out for a ‘date’ or even proposed marriage that you’d probably blink for a few moments and then happily accept.”
…Blink for a few moments, as he’s doing now, “really?”
“Yep.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
He considers this for a few seconds, it seems something to consider as he slowly slides his hands up her legs and feels the soft flesh of her thighs beneath his fingers “…Do you know everything before me?”
“Pretty much,” she only giggles, and slowly levers herself to her feet with the aid of the banister and his always helpful chest beneath her hands, “including what we’ll be doing tonight, actually.”
“Oh?”
“Oh.”
…He smiles, in a lovingly resigned way, and extends his hand – letting her pull him up and onwards to the bedroom waiting ahead.
He can hardly protest, after all, considering that everything that she says is true.
UNPROMPTED: The Wednesday Sixty-Niner, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [1/2]
“I’m so glad I started fucking you,” she breathes in between kisses, giggling yet again as he wrinkles his nose and reaching up to peck it (she gets his top lip, he figures that’s hardly something to complain about).
“Couldn’t you be more romantic?” He frowns, mock frowns for he’s a little too dizzy at the moment to manage anything proper, as he draws back – still can’t resist letting her lean after him with her long leg coming up to wrap around his hips.
“Why?” She giggles, aiming for his nose again and ending up with his cheek (still nothing to complain about).
He makes a slight face at it, only a slight one – still a little too dizzy, wraps his arms all the tighter around her and drags her up for another proper kiss, “it is technically our anniversary…”
“So?”
At her snort, and a snort should really not be attractive on any person, he decides to go for broke – wraps his arms even tighter around her waist and picks her up, spins her around with a certain sort of joy that should probably be allowed on occasions such as these…
And ends up tripping over his own feet, crashing down on the stairs with her giggling on top of him and his back already hurting.
“…You should be nice to me today,” he finishes in a slightly out of breath way, after he’s done pretending not to notice her subtle checking of his head.
“Why?” And as she sits back on his chest, a wicked smirk curving her lips as she taps her fingernails (half of them far too long, half of them far too short) against his shirt.
“If we’re having fantastic sex on a regular basis…”
And she’s snorting again.
And leaning down for another kiss, one that practically invites him to raise his hands and bury them in her thick, slightly curly hair (still a mane, for she is Chris and will be sure to have a mane even when she’s ninety and hitting people with a cane).
“It is pretty fantastic,” she purrs, the moment she draws back and casually tugs up the straps of her dress.
“Mm,” he has to agree, for it is one of those facts that you can’t get away from – like the sun rising and Marcus treating him with faint scorn, Chris will always be absolutely amazing in bed “…So fantastic that I wonder why you decided to do it with me, sometimes.”
She only smiles down at him for a second, incredibly fondly.
“…What?”
“You idiot,” and wrinkles her nose equally fondly, as she leans down to give him an enthusiastic hug (which does not help his back any, but he’s still hardly going to raise a fuss), “I knew, for about two years before I actually made my move, that if I turned to you and kissed you or asked you out for a ‘date’ or even proposed marriage that you’d probably blink for a few moments and then happily accept.”
…Blink for a few moments, as he’s doing now, “really?”
“Yep.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
He considers this for a few seconds, it seems something to consider as he slowly slides his hands up her legs and feels the soft flesh of her thighs beneath his fingers “…Do you know everything before me?”
“Pretty much,” she only giggles, and slowly levers herself to her feet with the aid of the banister and his always helpful chest beneath her hands, “including what we’ll be doing tonight, actually.”
“Oh?”
“Oh.”
…He smiles, in a lovingly resigned way, and extends his hand – letting her pull him up and onwards to the bedroom waiting ahead.
He can hardly protest, after all, considering that everything that she says is true.